


A Fate Worse Than Death

by fallencastiel (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fallencastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally posted on my and my friend's tumblr blog spnlockedtnings. But the blog has been deleted and so I've posted it on here.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Fate Worse Than Death

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my and my friend's tumblr blog spnlockedtnings. But the blog has been deleted and so I've posted it on here.

Dean was being torn apart. His whole body was being attacked with knifes and scorching heat. It was dark. So dark he couldn't even see his attackers. The pain was excruciating; it flooded Dean's body like a surging wave during a hurricane. His mouth was raw from screaming. His skin was red and bleeding. He was on the brink of death but at that moment the thought of dying didn't seem that bad.

...

Dean woke up covered in a cold sweat. He tried to find the light switch but in his distress he couldn't, causing his panic to escalate. He was awake yet he simply couldn't shake the haunting images from his mind. The darkness made it worse. Made these images even more realistic... Made it feel like he was still there... Like he had never left. 

He lay on the floor with his head in his hands trying to shroud himself from the depths of despair. He felt like he was playing a game with death and chaos. What had he done wrong to make him deserve this fate? 

The colors of darkness and emptiness would not leave him, making Dean feel like he was falling into oblivion, with the dust of the ages settling around him. It felt like the end of time was near. The last tide of terror washed over him, and he fell, drowning, to the bottom of the ocean that was his consciousness.

...

His body was shaking, but not of its own accord. He hauled himself up from the bed of the ocean and his eyes blinked open to reveal emerald green. It took them a few minutes to adjust to the light that was now shining throughout the room, but when they did, they revealed Cas knelt beside him with a look of concern on his face.

Cas didn't ask what was wrong; he knew Dean well enough to know that he wouldn't want to talk. He kept his emotions locked away inside him and although Cas knew that this was unhealthy he didn't dare say anything to Dean. 

Cas pulled Dean into his arms and let his head rest on his shoulder and the rest of his body lean against his chest. Dean was still hazy with unconsciousness and so he didn't fight against it; he just let himself be guided by Cas. Not questioning. Completely trusting him.

After a few minutes Dean let Cas' words of comfort, the smell of petrichor on his trench coat and the warmth of his body against his own guide him into an uneasy sleep.

...

Dean woke up in the morning back in his bed. Cas was gone but he knew the events that had occurred the night before hadn't been a dream. The memory was too real, and plus the faint smell of dew remained. Dean smiled. Cas really did suck at goodbyes.


End file.
